


Saut Dans Le Vide, My Lover

by vermillion



Category: Atlantis: The Lost Empire (2001), Disney - All Media Types, Disney Princesses
Genre: F/M, Gen, Post-Canon, why is there no fic for these two
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-01
Updated: 2015-03-01
Packaged: 2018-03-15 20:30:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3461045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vermillion/pseuds/vermillion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Milo, I cannot “hit you with my best shot” if you keep shrinking away from me.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Saut Dans Le Vide, My Lover

**Author's Note:**

> Wanted to write something and of course, a very old, obscure Disney film came to mind. The prompt was "disarm." 
> 
> Title is from Alt-j's [Nara](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MtmrYisoxXA).

“Alright, hit me with your best shot.”

 

After a beat, his partner replied, voice husky with ill-concealed amusement. 

“Milo, I cannot “hit you with my best shot” if you keep shrinking away from me.”

 

Sparring lessons were a relatively new development in their regimen, particularly at Kida’s insistence (and to Milo’s chagrin). 

After her coronation, Milo had not only accepted the opportunity to become the first Atlantean translator the empire had had in nearly eight thousand years, but also very graciously took up the role of Kida’s personal tutor. (An overstatement. He had practically jumped at the prospect.)

He hadn’t realized at the time that it would require spending a considerable amount of time with Kida in her private chambers. 

 

Alone. 

 

Sometimes with her in states of casual undress.   

 

(He had conceded that it was both a blessing and a curse.) 

 

Their lessons grew in frequency as she improved. Yet, as they progressed, Kida became increasingly earnest in repaying him, despite his fervent avowal that he needed absolutely nothing in return. When she offered to teach him something in return though, he couldn’t help but accept such a practical offer.

He just hadn’t realized it would be something like _this_. 

The next day, he met her in the palace courtyard, completely unprepared for what was to come. She immediately handed him a sarong to change into and a weapon to defend himself with. It was a bit of an understatement to say he was panicked at the prospect of having his ass handed to him by an eight thousand and something year old warrior woman, who was incredibly attractive and also much more capable of bodily violence than he.

A little while later, as he stood in front of her, she beclad in her own kilt, and he fidgeting uncomfortably in his “battle sarong,” Milo slowly realized that he _really should have said something to her about this_.  

He examined his spear nervously, looking up at his sparring partner. “Er, Kida, I really don’t think I can—“

 

“Nonsense! You will do fine. After all, _if you need any help, that is what I am here for_ ,” she chirped as she patted his shoulder forcefully, cleverly parroting one of his pet phrases from their tutoring sessions. Their strolling-in-the-moonlight-while-gazing-meaningfully-at-each-other-talking-about-vocabulary-and-also-their-feelings kind of tutoring sessions. 

 

Had he not known for a fact that Atlanteans didn’t have the explicit concept of dating, he’d have thought that that was exactly what they were doing. 

This…was partly true. 

What were ~~somewhat~~  chaste lessons for him were ritual indications of courtship on her behalf. But Kida had realized early on that Milo was exceptionally blockheaded.

 

So she decided to take matters into her own hands. 

Impatiently waving off his waspish protestations, she walked over to him, chuckling as she did. “First, we need to fix your bearing—“ she gingerly straightened his back, continuing to laugh despite herself, “—no, no, do not hunch your shoulders—“ 

 

After a few moments of adjusting his posture and many more moments of re-explaining how to thrust his weapon forward and back towards an opponent, she then resumed her original position in front of him, shifting on the balls of her feet, tensing. 

“Are you ready?” she asked, eyes alight with anticipation and childlike delight. 

 

“As ready as I’ll ever b—"

 

No sooner had he uttered the words before Kida was off, the clayish dirt rasping beneath her bare feet as she spurted behind him, barely giving Milo a second to deliberate before whirling around, holding up his weapon defensively. 

As she skirted around his timid thrusts, she grinned mischievously. He hadn’t been giving himself enough credit! And he _hadn’t_ let on that he’d been watching and learning by himself. 

 

“Milo, you're better than I thought!" she beamed, as she deflected his attacks. 

 

"And you're going easy on me," he laughed, wiping the sweat off his brow. 

In reply, her eyes narrowed in wicked amusement. Immediately, he regretted saying anything. 

And again, she was off.

 

And again, she darted quickly toward him, brushing off another one of his lunges with a parry of her own and deftly swiping up his weapon from his loosened grip. With the force of two spears now, she gave him an almighty shove, causing him to stumble back against a nearby pillar, his glasses nearly flying off his face. 

 

" _Um_." 

 

He was quite literally cornered, with his back against a pillar and a blade on either side of him, leaving him no place to move. 

 

What really captured his attention though, was the fact that Kida was uncomfortably close to him. Her body was pressed flush against his, and their chests rose and fell in unison. He shuddered despite himself, a bead of sweat trickling down his neck for reasons beyond his comprehension. 

He tried again, hoarsely, "K-Kida?" 

 

She simply smiled at him, propped up slightly on her toes so that they were face to face, mere inches between them. She was now close enough for him to see each and every one of her eyelashes, each glinting a brilliant white-blonde under the balmy sun. 

 

"D'you wanna move ov--"

 

"You know, I could have killed you if I wanted to," she interrupted. That gave him a little jerk, his eyes widening slightly under his skewed glasses, in mingled shock and confusion. 

“When we first found you,” she continued, her expression undecipherable, “None of us knew where you came from, who you were. One of my lieutenants asked if we should kill you. I could have. A thousand years ago, I would have.” 

The weapon to his right clattered to the ground as her hand moved to rest around his neck, her gaze upon him, unflinching, as if she were still contemplating the deed.

"It would have taken a thought, a _second_."

An intangible emotion pooled at the bottom of his stomach then, and he was sure Kida could hear how hard his heart was beating, the sound of blood rushing in his ears.

Before he could say anything, her eyes fell to his bared chest. She dropped her hand to linger upon the spot where he had been wounded, fingers tracing the obscured scar with a featherlight touch. In response to her ghost of a touch, gooseflesh erupted all across his chest.

 

“But you didn’t,” he said, breathless, his eyes meeting hers with an expression of bewildered wonderment. 

 

“I didn’t,” Kida agreed. 

 

Her eyes settled back on his chest, and she paused for a moment before stooping down and pressing a gentle kiss to that very same place. 

He positively trembled under her touch, letting out a quivering exhale as his eyes nearly lost focus. 

 

“I didn’t want to,” she murmured, her breath warm on his exposed skin.  

 

Before he realized what he was doing, he took her face in his hands, pulling her up to his level, and hungrily kissed her soft mouth. In response, she rose on her toes and kissed him back fiercely. The last spear fell to the floor as she pulled his head back with a gentle tug of his hair, the other hand settling at the crook of his shoulder. 

His hands cupped her face, his thumb trailing the line of her throat. She laughed into his mouth, a contagious sound — he found himself smiling against her lips as she worked to open his mouth. Obediently, he bent to her will, deepening the kiss.  

He pressed into her, soft and devout, filled to the brim with an overwhelming heat and hunger. His hand found its way to the small of her back, working to firmly push her against him. 

  

They broke apart moments after, and he gratefully gulped in air. They laughed together shakily, entangled within each other. He looked at her then, hair falling over her face, large blue eyes crinkling into a smile, and he reveled in the total acceptance of this feeling, in this blatant, unhidden adoration. He wanted this; he wanted this for the rest of his life. Before he lost himself again, he leaned forward, revealing himself totally to her, right into the shell of her ear. 

 

“I love you.” 

 

She smiled widely then, leaving a soft kiss on the inside of his wrist. 

  

“Took you long enough.” 

 


End file.
